Bloody Murder
by Promise of Happiness
Summary: "She had heard about this place, the crime and the bribes. She wasn't untouchable here, and if she started digging around a murder and conspiracies and whatever else this place had going on, she knew that the cities so-called "ears" would be out for blood." Spoilers for the Forsworn Conspiracy quest line.
1. Prologue: A Murder in Markarth

**Disclaimer: I claim no rights to The Elder Scrolls series, only my OC.**

**Alright, I just started this quest once again (the last time I tried it bugged out like crazy) and I've decided to record it forever in a fic! I'll try and update every couple of days, if not _every _day because this will be relatively short, I think. Hope you enjoy!**

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><p>Markarth was an old city, that much was obvious from the moment she walked in. It was also dangerous, and that was clear to her when she witnessed a young woman being murdered on the street.<p>

She could have saved her, if she had been quick enough... if she had just spotted that man pulling out his dagger a few seconds earlier nobody would had to have died. She tried not to dwell on that.

The woman, Margret she learned later, had been minding her own business and browsing market stalls. "A bit of jewelry for your journey home?"

It happened faster than she could blink, "The Reach belongs to the Forsworn!"

Margret was quite literally stabbed in the back, dead before she hit the pavement, and then there was more fighting. The next thing she knew she was aiming an arrow at the Breton attacker's body as the life drained out of him, his final words echoing in the ears of the bystanders forced to watch such a cruel act. "I die for my people..."

A Redguard, the lady that had been selling jewelry, was shouting in terror. "The Forsworn are in the city!"

Tessara took a few steps back and planned to slink into the shadows at the first sign of a mass panic, something she didn't want to get caught up in. She didn't know who the Forsworn were and she didn't plan on finding out. Luckily a couple guards managed to stop the dam from breaking. "Everyone stay back! The Markarth city guard have this all under control. There are no Forsworn here." One was saying, while his comrade was kneeling next to the victims body.

The crowd was being ushered back, her included, while the crime scene was being dealt with, and as she watched the man standing beside her spoke up. "Gods, a woman attacked right on the streets."

She only nodded, hoping to steer him away, but he turned to speak to her directly. "Are you all right? Did you see what happened?"

"I was right there. He almost killed me." Tess forced her voice to quiver and wrapped her arms around herself. Maybe if she acted all shaken up, she could slip away with the pretense of needing time to recover. He nodded, but something in his eyes told her he wasn't buying it.

"I'm so sorry. I hope the Eight give you more peace in the future." Not damn likely. "Oh, I think you dropped this. Some kind of note? Looks important."

The blonde raised an eyebrow as she took the piece of parchment from him. She had clearly seen him pull that note out of his pocket just seconds ago, but she decided to play along. "Do you know anything about the attack?"

"Hmm? No. I was just getting some fresh air. Had one too many pints of mead at the Sliver-Blood Inn." Now that was bullshit, he looked completely sober. Why would he lie about that? She scolded herself. _For Divine's sake, Tess. Don't get too involved, not in this city._

The note was hastily scribbled and messy, as if whoever had written it didn't have a flat surface handy.

_Meet me at the Shrine of Talos._

_-Eltrys_

"Is this your note? What does this mean?"

"My note? No, that's yours. Must have fallen out of your pocket." He wasn't very good and she could see right through him. She sighed as he walked away, already knowing she'd be going to meet him, if only to find out what it was that he wanted from her.

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><p>She entered the shrine and walked down the ramp towards the Breton – Eltrys – warily, remaining silent.<p>

"I'm sorry to drag you into Markarth's problems, but after that attack in the market, I'm running out of time." He looked at her intensely from where he was leaning against a pillar, arms crossed. "You're an outsider. You're dangerous looking. You'll do."

Tessara scowled at him, "I'm not doing _anything_ yet."

"You want answers? Well so do I." His voice was raising and he was gesturing wildly. "So does everyone in this city! A man goes crazy in the market. Everyone knows he's a Forsworn agent. Guards do nothing. Nothing but clean up the mess."

"You want me to find out why." It was more of a statement than a question. She wasn't expecting anything less.

"This has been going on for years, and all I've been able to find is murder and blood. I need help." Eltrys was downright begging now. "Please. You find out why Margret was attacked, who's behind Weylin and the Forsworn, and I'll pay you for any information you bring me."

The prospect of being paid was too much to turn down. She was hardly getting by as it was. "What do you know about this Margret?"

"She's not from Markarth. The air about her screamed 'outsider.' Visitors to the city usually stay at the Silver-Blood Inn." He had a strange kind of hope in his features now, as if she was going to fix all of his problems for him. It made her nervous.

"Who was Weylin? Where did he live?"

Eltrys frowned slightly. "He was one of the smelter workers. I used to have a job down there myself, casting silver ingots. I never knew much about Weylin, except that he lives in the Warrens, like all the other workers."

"Who are the Forsworn?" She asked, dreading the answer. She wanted nothing to do with this city's problems, but it seemed she had no choice anymore.

"They're remnants of the old rulers of Markarth. Natives of the Reach. Followers of the old ways." Eltrys explained, his expression hard. "The Nords drove them out of the city. Ulfric Stormcloak and his men. That was about twenty years ago. But somehow they're still here, and they're killing people."

Tess studied him curiously. Something he said before had been nagging at her. "You've looked into these murders?"

"Yes. It all started when I was a boy. My father owned one of the mines. Rare for anyone who isn't a Nord." He sighed sadly, and rubbed his forehead. "He was killed. Guards said it was just a madman, but everyone knew the murderer was a member of the Forsworn." She had kind of been expecting that. Not a tragic back story exactly, but she could tell this was personal to him. "I've been trying to find out why ever since. Gotten nowhere so far, and then I got married. Have a child of my own on the way. I swore I was going to just give up, for my child's sake, but it's like my father's ghost is haunting me. Asking me _'why?'_"

Looks like her mind had been made up for her. Damn her hero complex.

"City's got eyes. Be careful out there." He warned as she stalked away.

Tessara left with a scowl on her face. Every survival instinct in her body was protesting on this one.

She had heard about this place, the conspiracies and bribes, the fact that the Jarl wasn't the one in charge around here, the guards who were dirty — and not in the good way. She wasn't untouchable here, and if she started digging around a murder and conspiracies and _whatever the hell else _this bloody town had going on, she knew that the cities so-called "ears" would be out for blood.


	2. Investigating The Warrens

**Alrighty sorry this took so long but I hope you enjoy!**

**EDIT: Finally fixed all the mistakes, sorry about that but I was in a rush to get this up before I went into town that day. If you notice anything's wrong please let me know!**

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><p><em>It's about noon,<em> she noted as she marched towards the lower area of Markarth with a purpose, _so I have the entire afternoon to search for evidence before someone notices my prying._

From what she'd been told by Eltrys, the Warren's seemed like as good a place to start as any, so that's where she was headed. Of course, that Orc watching over the smelter like a hawk looking for prey may become a problem. One of the workers was passing by her, and she grabbed his arm to halt him.

"Who's in charge around here?" She asked, hoping to dodge an arrow.

"Mulush. Big Orc fella. Can't miss him."

_Perfect._ She tried bypassing the guy, but he stepped in front of her.

"You're not one of my workers." He stated, eyeing her curiously, but not threateningly. Yet. "What are you doing here?"

She played the innocent card. "Nothing. Just looking."

"Well then look. Look all you want. And when you're done looking, maybe we can get some work done." He was glaring at her now.

Tess scrubbed a frustrated hand through her hair, blew the tangled strands out of her face, and decided to try again. "I'm looking into the Markarth attack. I have questions about Weylin."

"Oh, yes. Weylin. Bastard could have at least gone crazy after we made our silver quota. Whatever you want to know, I don't care. I run a smelter. That's it." The Orc seemed defensive now, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You must know_ something_." She titled her head to the side, and raised an eyebrow.

He sighed and relented, if only to get her to leave him alone. "Fine. I did notice something odd last time we handed out the pay. Little extra slip of paper for Weylin. Took it right to his room after he got it."

She nodded along to his words, and her lips started to twitch. Finally getting somewhere. "Do you have the key to Weylin's room?"

"You want Garvey. He handles the keys for the Warrens. About the only thing that disease-riddled native is good for." Mulush motioned towards a stone building that was behind him, separated from the smelter buy a river and a wooden bridge.

Tess paused before leaving, her curiosity getting the best of her once again. "Do you own this smelter?"

"What? No." He held his hands up, palms out, and shook his head. Mulush looked as if the very idea was the most mind blowing thing he'd ever heard. "Thonar Silver-Blood owns it. He owns everything in Markarth. But he hands all the paperwork over to Nepos the Nose to finish. That old man's back is heavy with burden."

She was about to ask about that Nepos guy, but decided against it. It was unlikely that she'd run into him at all.

"What do you know about the Forsworn?" She blurted out awkwardly. If she was investigating them, then she needed to know more about them. He seemed confused bu the change of subject, but answered anyway.

"Every other day, seems one of the laborers runs off to the hills saying he'll join the Forsworn." He rolled his eyes. "You don't like the Nords? Fine. But pledging your whole life to killing them? That's just dumb."

_So they hate Nords. That might make my job a little harder. _Tessara definitely looked more like her Nordic father than her Breton mother. Hopefully it wouldn't be a problem. She thanked Mulush for his time, and headed inside the Warrens.

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><p>The only thing that made this place look like it was inhabited by humans rather than bears were the pillars and metal doors that separated each room. Clearly Dwarven, as was most of Markarth, but it looked almost abandoned, like a ruin. There was large debris on the ground and the once-stone floor was mostly dug up and uneven, the only light came from a couple campfires that the laborers had lit for warmth.<p>

There was a Breton leaning against one of the pillars, he had long red hair and was dressed in ragged, torn up robes.

"The Warrens isn't a place for your type." He was quick to inform her. "What do you want?"

Tess rubbed her hands together and stepped towards him, "Did you know Weylin?"

"Oh yes. I know everyone who sleeps in the Warrens. Kind of the one who passes the keys around." He scoffed at her. "I guess someone else will be taking his room now."

So this was Garvey.

"What are the Warrens?" She had the general idea, place for laborers to stay, but it didn't seem as if only workers were in here.

"It's where you go when you can't afford a room anywhere else. About the time they opened the mines, someone got the idea to throw beds in here. Laborers. The sick. The lame. We're all here."

She glanced down the wide hall, and sure enough there was a woman sitting in front of a fire, looking hopeless. "So, only the poor or the sick live here?"

He smiled cynically, "That's right. Welcome to Markarth, traveler. Thank the Divine's you can chose to live somewhere else."

Tessara puffed her cheeks out and shook her head. Alright, back to business. "I need the key to Weylin's room."

"Sorry, but you don't exactly belong here."

"I wasn't asking." Placing her hand on the hilt of her dagger, she scowled at him. She really didn't need anymore holdups or distractions, and sure, she could easily pick the lock, but she was trying to stay out of trouble in this city.

Garvey's eyes widened and he reached into his pocket, pulling out a rusty key. "Now don't get all upset. Here, take it."

Tess plucked it from his hands and stalked off, muttering a short thank you.

When she was standing inside Weylin's room she didn't know why, but she was surprised at how... awful it looked. Very un-homelike, with no personal touches whatsoever. The ground was just dirt and the walls were stone, causing the place to feel extra chilly. A chair sat in front of lantern, the only source of light, and the only thing the man had for a bed was a hay pile cover in a deerskin. There was a rickety looking table at the back of the room and on top of it was a wooden plate with a piece of stale looking bread, a bowl with an old boiled egg and a tankard.

She perked up when her eyes landed on a chest pushed up against a wall. _Time to find that note! _Tess knelt in front of it and began searching._ Cow hide, nope. Robes, no thank you. Gold... don't mind if I do! Horker tusk? Not even touching that one... Aha! _The letter was a lot fancier than she expected, complete with a wax seal.

_Weylin,_

_You've been chosen to strike fear in the heart of the Nords. Go to the market tomorrow. You'll know what to do._

_-N_

It was a tad dramatic and Tess couldn't help but scoff. But it was useful... or it would be, if she could just find out who _N _was. In the mean time, she was heading to the Silver-Blood Inn.

After she left the Warrens, a man confronted her. A mercenary, by the look of him.

"You've been digging around where you don't belong. It's time you learned a lesson." He sounded arrogant, which wasn't wasn't an attractive quality for her.

"Who sent you?" She asked cautiously.

"Someone who doesn't like you asking questions." Was all he said.

Tess planted her hands on her hips, hand ghosting over her weapon. "I don't listen to threats."

The man smirked, "You'll listen to this."

She dodged his attempted hit neatly, albeit a bit disbelievingly. Was he really trying to attack her with only his hands? Well, at the very least she'd fight fair.

Her fist flew, knocking him square in the chin and sending him stumbling back one or two steps. He seemed shocked that she even tried to fight back, no doubt taking note of her stature —she was tall for a Breton, but short for a Nord— and righting her off as a feeble opponent before he even approached her. _Last mistake_.

"Now I assume you'd like to keep your head, but if not you can try and swing at me again." She smiled with false sweetness, a challenge hanging in the air. The Breton man shook his head to clear it, before moving back into a fighting stance and she shrugged easily. "Your choice."

The tactics were messy but efficient, so he definitely had training. Probably not military though. He swung fiercely and violently, trying to jab her at all angles. She on the other hand, had an advantage in her speed and took to dodging. Their brawl had gained the attention of a group of onlookers, who shouted and cheered at them.

"You just gonna stand there and take it? Fight back!"

"My money's on the big one."

"Get 'em, hit 'em!"

The only managed to hit her directly once, another time his fist grazed her shoulder, but it was enough to send her stumbling into the wall behind her. His fist came at her and she move quickly to the side, causing it to smack into the stone, and while he was momentarily distracted by the pain she lifted her leg and kicked him in the chest hard enough to throw him onto the hard ground and knocking the wing out of him. The man tried to stand up, but it seemed that after a couple minutes of nonstop punching he had worn himself out. Tess used that to her advantage and drew her bow, aiming an arrow at his head.

He shot her a dirty look as he tried to catch his breath. "You mangy piece of pit-bait."

She pulled the bowstring tighter and glared back, she could feel a trail of blood dripping down the side of her chin from a cut on her lip. If he didn't give her answers, he was going to pay for that. "Talk, or I'll send you to the gods."

"I was sent by Nepos the Nose." He confessed easily, his voice sounding panicked and rushed. "The old man hands out the orders. He told me to make sure you didn't get in the way. That's all I know, I swear!"

Tessara lowered her weapon and marched off, taking a look at the sky as she did. It was only mid-afternoon. _Seems I have less time than I thought._


	3. Imperial Spies

**So this took a little longer to write out then I would have liked, and I think it's a little short too? Sorry! I also didn't have a chance to actually play the game so I just reused some dialogue from the UESPWiki for Tessara's interaction with both Kleppr and the guard that confronts you outside of the inn. I'll go back and fix it when I get the chance [EDIT: fixed]. I added Kleppr fighting with Frabbi for total entertainment purposes, but I feel like it might be kind of annoying? Haha.**

**You may have noticed I changed the name of this fic? Yeah, the orignal title was pretty unoriginal... literally the name of the quest. I thought 'Bloody Murder' was a little more gruesome, yanno?**

**Oh and I just put a link to my Skyrim blog on my profile, I post all updates on there too. Okay, okay, end of long authors note.**

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><p>She was sitting at a table inside the Silver-Blood Inn, running her thumb along the crease of the parchment she had found in Weylin's room as she stared at it... her eyes were following the words but her mind was elsewhere, trying to connect the dots. The note was signed by someone called <em>N<em>, she was attacked at the smelter by a mercenary who claimed to work for a man named Nepos the Nose, but Mulush had told her he was just an old man that sat around and did paperwork for Thonar Silver-Blood.

Either the Orc was lying to her – _covering up for someone maybe? Doubt it_ – or he didn't know all the facts and this Nepos guy was a hidden pawn in the conspiracy, someone that gave out the orders for his leader. The latter seemed more likely to her, Mulush had no reason to mislead her, she'd get the information either way, and a guy who worked for the family that owned most of the Reach probably had a lot of pull around town and could be a lead towards whoever was allowing Forsworn agents into the city and then making sure they weren't found out until the bitter end.

There was a commotion coming from not too far away that startled her from her thoughts and Tess glanced around, slightly dazed, then groaned in annoyance.

"All the wood furniture in this inn is rotting to the core. Do you know why that is, Kleppr?"

"I don't know, my darling wife. I assume you're going to tell me?"

The couple that owned the place were fighting. Again.

The wife rolled her eyes. "It's rotten because the wood is cheap and it's soaked with ale! Now we'll have to replace all the furniture before bugs set in."

"Don't worry, my love." Kleppr replied as he cleaned off the counter top, a smile full of false sweetness on his lips. "Just show the bugs your adoring face, and they'll scurry away in complete fear in no time."

_This is definitely not a healthy work environment,_ she though sarcastically. Tess put her head in her hands for a moment before standing up and making her way to the front of the bar, hoping to end the argument and find an excuse to go into Margret's room and possibly find out what she was doing in Skyrim.

"You're an idiot, Kleppr." Frabbi shouted at the other side of the room from her husband. "Why did I ever marry you?"

"Not a day goes by I don't ask that question myself, my dear."

"Er... excuse me?" Tess cut in timidly, husband and wife looked as if they were about to start throwing things and she was in the line of fire. Maybe this hadn't been her smartest idea.

"Hello." Frabbi had turned away from the two of them, continuing her previous job of sweeping the floors, but Kleppr threw in one last jab behind her back. "If I can't get you something, I'm sure my wife will bellow at me until I can."

She chuckled awkwardly, "Did a woman named Margret stay here?"

"Ah yes, rented the nicest room we had for a whole month. Best we all forget about her, bad luck to talk about the dead in Markarth."

"Do you have the key to her room?"

The Breton shook his head. "Of course. But I can't just hand that over. Privacy after all."

"I won't tell anyone." She put on her most convincing smile. "Promise."

"Right. You adventuring types would never go into a room just to steal everything." He said with a snort, and she tried to look offended for a moment before she sighed and pulled out a couple septims from her coin purse. It was getting late and she needed a place to stay tonight anyway.

"Maybe I could rent the room?"

His eyes practically glowed as his pocketed the gold, then pulled out a key and slid it across the counter. "Well, I guess Margret isn't around to complain. It's yours."

She thanked him quickly as he showed her to the room, though it wouldn't have been too hard to find. It was up a couple of steps down the middle of the hallway, and the door was the only one there. Tessara couldn't help but wonder if the other rooms would have been worth saving a little extra money if this was what the inn called it's 'nicest.' It was almost entirely made of stone, – including the bed! – had a small alcove on one side and a plate of seared slaughterfish that Margret must not of had the chance to finish sat on the little table situated there.

Briefly she wondered if it was considered impolite to steal food from a dead woman, but then again she hadn't planned to pay for dinner from anyone actually alive either.

Tessara shook her head to focus it away from her stomach and onto searching the place. There really wasn't any place to check that wasn't already in plain sight, no wooden chest like in Weylin's room, but there _was_ an end table and right inside of it was a journal. Margret's journal. She figured reading the whole thing would take too long, and she hadn't planned on hearing about some woman from Cyrodiil's life story, so she started from the last couple of pages that had been written on.

The first entry was fairly short, and brought on more questions than answers.

_Meeting at __the Treasury House __later today. Took them long enough. These people act like they own everything._

_Thonar Silver-Blood __is the younger brother, but he's obviously the one in charge. Makes all the deals, bullies local landowners into selling to him. Even employs that wispy girl at the door to deter "troublemakers" like me._

Her brows furrowed, and she turned the page.

_General Tullius __is growing impatient, but I'll bring back the deed to __Cidhna Mine__. On my life, I won't allow a group of __Stormcloak __sympathizers to own the prison to the most notorious criminals of __the Reach__. They say no one escapes. Why? Is it really that secure?_

So she was an Imperial spy? Huh, no wonder she was wasted. This was a tight knit city, the people didn't like it when you looked into their business. The last entry was ominous, and made her feel a little anxious._  
><em>

_Maybe I've played my hand too soon by rushing the confrontation with Thonar. There are shadows around every corner in this city, and I know I'm being watched._

So the people that snooped around Markarth get added to a hit list, and either Thonar Silver-Blood or Nepos the Nose send in a Forsworn agent to do the killing and keep their hands clean. She was probably next, and if she went on long enough in this place always looking over her shoulder, she would go mad with paranoia. No, she had to put an end to the Silver-Blood family's little outfit quickly.

Get them before they got her. She scoffed slightly and laughed at herself. _Listen to me, I'm already starting to sound insane._

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><p>The next morning she was a little less than bright eyed and bushy tailed as she left the inn, already dreading having to go confront Thonar, seeing as it went so well for Margret. The early hour didn't help much, and neither did the guard making no move to act casual as he stood outside of the building, clearly waiting for someone. Her apparently. Tessara's eyes widened as he approached her, she couldn't remember doing anything illegal recently, not in this Hold at the very least.<p>

"You. I've seen you snooping around. Asking questions." He started, voice slightly muffled behind his ridiculous helm. _Oh_ _gods, more threats? _"Back off. You don't want to know what happens to troublemakers here."

She tilted her head and smirked, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "What happens? I'm curious."

"Funny." He didn't sound amused, just condescending and mean. "This is your last warning, outsider. We keep the peace here. Stay out of our business."

Tess glared at him as he walked away and only when he was out of site did she let her shoulders drop. She ran a hand through her blonde hair and blew a strand out of her face, seriously considering just taking the guard's advice and leaving the city before she was stabbed in the back, quite literally. But her resolve flared up again, if she were to forget about the Reach someone else would get curious, start looking into things and most likely be killed. Eltrys, married and with a child on the way, could be the next victim. Too stubborn to let his father's death go unsolved he'd force his pregnant wife to watch as he was taken down by an agent of the Forsworn and have the guards call it_ just an accident._

It would be an endless cycle, visitor's to the city would try to investigate only to have Thonar Silver-Blood and Nepos the Nose end their lives early. Maybe she'd end up dead too? No one except for an Imperial solider or two knew where she was from, so she didn't think word of her death would even make it back to Cyrodiil and her family. They'd all continue thinking she was just a rebellious runaway. But she had to try to put an end to the gathering of the Forsworn in Markarth, and as much as her practical mind prompted her to run as fast as she could, she knew she would stay.

Tess shook off her doubts and marched off to the Treasury House, stubbornness leaking from her every step.


	4. The Treasury House

**So sorry this took so long to get up, but I have limited internet access right now and it's really been a pain. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

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><p>The Treasury House was kind of nice, if you liked stone. If you <em>really<em> liked stone. And Dwarves. It was built like the rest of the city – a _long_ time ago.

In the middle of the room stood a very large desk with a young woman attending it, looking oddly fragile standing there as well as underneath an old and massive chandelier. Tessara was surprised it hadn't already given out and crushed the poor thing.

Behind her there was a gate that blocked off a room full of silver ingots. On either side of the desk were short hallways that led to an identical and small set of stairs, there was a desk pushed up against the walls bellow each staircase as well. The place was almost completely symmetrical, from the mounted elk on the walls to the housekeepers sweeping the floors on opposite sides of the room. The only thing that was really out of place was the blonde woman sitting to the left of the room.

Tess walked up to the desk, sporting her most friendly smile. She didn't get the chance to speak though, and the _fragile_ woman suddenly seemed very blunt and definitely in the way. "The Treasury House is really just for patrons of the Silver-Blood family. You don't belong here."

She faltered for a moment, then sighed. "I was hoping for some assistance."

"I'm sorry. We're only interested in helping _our_ patrons." An overly sweet smile and a gesture to the door was directed at her. She ignored it.

"What kind of patrons do you have?"

"For one, the landowners of the Reach. It goes without saying that they rely heavily on us for out silver and support. All the miners, farmers and laborers in the Reach get their daily wages through us. Nepos the Nose handles that part of out business. He has a way with the workers."

"I want to know about the Silver-Bloods."

The woman rolled her eyes. "It's an old family. Very well-respected throughout the Reach. The Silver-Bloods run nearly all the lands in this Hold, as well as the local inn. And of course, they own Cidhna Mine, the finest prison and source of silver in Skyrim."

_Right. That sounded rehearsed._

"Who's in charge here?"

"You want Thonar Silver-Blood. He handles all the family business." She explained patiently. "If you're here to talk politics, though, you'd want his brother Thongvor. He spends most of his time in Understone Keep."

Tessara nodded quickly, "I need to see Thonar."

"I'm afraid he's asked not to be disturbed. He has important business." She shut her down without hesitance, leaning away from the counter slightly.

_Business, business, business. This is annoying. _"What's your name, miss?"

She stood there for a moment in silent confusion, before answering warily. "It's Rhiada, why?"

"Do you have a family?" Tess asked, tilting her head.

Rhiada's hand ghosted over her flat stomach for a second, and her face brightened with quiet happiness. "I was wed just last season. You may have met my husband, Eltrys, he's a metal worker."

She straightened, mouth opened in surprise and remorse as her mind raced. This was Eltrys wife, his _pregnant_ wife. Tess looked her over curiously. She was pretty, in a subtle way. A Breton with red hair that barley fell to her ears, a polite smile and heavy makeup. She was well-endowed, which complemented her clothes that resembled something a barmaid would wear. Skimpy, though not by choice if the way she fidgeted with the neckline every so often was anything to go by.

_That's an old one, _she thought. _Distract the people you don't want to see with a nice body. _She wondered how many times that actually worked.

"I'm Thonar's important business." Tess blurted out, all plans to persuade her out the window as she lied through her teeth. She winced when the woman balked at her and she realized how that sounded. "I mean, he's expecting me."

"Oh, I'm sorry to keep you." Rhiada said, wide eyed. "Head right in. It's the door on the left."

Tessara climbed the steps and headed inside the room, which appeared to be a dining area. Thonar, a middle aged, bald man in fine clothing, was sitting at the stone table with his head bent over some important looking documents.

His head shot up when she stepped inside and he scowled. "What are you doing here? I told them no visitors."

There were tons of other things she could have said that probably would have made this exchange easier, she had actually already planned a few of them. Things like _'I'm here about Margret,' _or _'I want answers about the Forsworn.' _What came out instead was this...

"Did you send that guard to threaten me?"

Her voice sounded shrill and angry, rather than calm and composed like she wanted. It was his own fault, he made her mad. She did not like being threatened.

"What did you expect? That no one was going to notice you butting into business that wasn't yours?" He asked her and she shuffled awkwardly. "The guards know who holds the purse strings in this city, and I don't like snoops. Markarth is my city. You have no right looking into my business. Now get out."

Tessara scowled and opened her mouth to tell him exactly where he could shove his _business_ before she could even stop herself, but she was cut off by shouting streaming in through the open door from the main room.

_"For the Forsworn!"  
><em>  
>"What?"As soon as she heard the raw, metallic sound of a dagger slicing through skin she was readying an arrow and rushing down the steps, Thonar hot on her heels.<p>

It was both of the servants she had seen sweeping the floors, armed with a dagger each and a bit of magic, attacking the other two people in the building. Though from what she could see one was already dead.

"By the Gods, Betrid... Betrid. No! We had a deal you Forsworn bastards!"

She raised her bow and fired at the older man, but he moved surprisingly fast when he noticed them joining the fray, and she only nicked him in the arm. Tess drew her sword and spun around with her swing as she sliced him across his chest while he was crying out in pain. As quickly as possible she pulled another arrow from it's quiver and shot again, at the woman this time. It hit her square in the chest and she fell, Thonar finished her off after she met the ground.

Tess sheathed both her weapons as she took a look around the room, breathing labored. Her eyes landed on one of the bodies and she felt her chest swell up with dread.

"My wife. They killed her." She turned towards Thonar, who was staring at his Betrid who was only a pile of ash after dying a second time with the woman who had reanimated her. "Damn Madanach. Damn his Forsworn backside."

"I'm sorry." She offered quietly and disregarded the rest of his words for the moment, but stored them away for later.

"No you're not." He growled angrily at her. "You want to know what the Forsworn really are? They're my puppets. I have their _king _rotting in Cidhna Mine, he was supposed to keep them under control."

Her eyes widened and she clenched her fists in incredulous frustration. "You made a deal with the Forsworn?!"

"When their uprising was crushed, I had Madanach brought to me. He was a wild animal, but a useful one. I offered him a stay from execution if he used his influence to deal with any annoyances that came up." He explained, the fight leaving him as he stared hard at the ground. "Competitors, agents, idiots. So I've let him run his little Forsworn rebellion from inside Cidhna Mine, now he's out of control."

"The Forsworn have a king?"

"Madanach. The King in Rags." Thonar bitterly rehashed. He sounded like he was reading from a book. "While we were off fighting the Elves in the Great War, Madanach was busy ruling over the Reach. Until Ulfric came and put them down."

She hummed under her breath, then titled her head up at the Nord. "Cidhna Mine?"

"My prison. The source of half the silver in Skyrim. The most secure prison in Tamriel. No one escapes. I thought keeping Madanach down there would keep him under control."

_That worked out so well. _Tessara heaved a breath and rolled her eyes heavenward, already regretting what she was about to offer. "Want me to take care of Madanach?"

"You already got what you wanted, you damn hound!" She stepped back in surprise and affront at the outburst. "This is your fault. You and Madanach are animals, and I'll see you both rot to death in Cidhna Mine for this. Now get out of my house!"

He stormed back up to his room like a child, but she had a feeling he wasn't done his scheming just yet. Tess then looked towards the desk, and her face crumpled slightly at the woman lying there.

Rhiada was dead, and so was her child.


	5. Nepos the Nose

**Helloo, and here is chapter four! This is where it gets interesting, I think! When I had to choose the dialogue with the guards and Nepos I reloaded a bunch of times and picked different options then did my best to write them all down in a way that made sense so we didn't miss anything if maybe you chose something different when you played through, yanno? I hope it works okay!**

**Also if anyone was wondering about the setting for this fic, Tessara is still pretty new to Skyrim and she is the Dragonborn but that wont really come up, and she hasn't joined the Thieves Guild yet so shes a bit cautious with her crime rate. Alright hope you enjoy, I think this is the longest chapter yet! Sorry, haha.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>She knew she should have went back to the inn and waited until the heat died down. Thonar had threatened her with life in the lands most secure prison, and that probably wasn't something to scoff at. When she thought about, it was pretty dumb of her to be here right now.<strong><br>**

After leaving the Treasury House she had went straight to the marketplace to ask for directions to Nepos' residence, and it was like pulling teeth. No one was willing to hand out information about someone so important to the Silver-Blood's, but eventually she had managed to bribe a beggar with enough gold to buy him a decent meal and now here she was. Tess had went straight there with the excuse that if she let herself go and rest she'd be too late and they would throw her into Cidhna Mine before she even had a chance to figure any of this out.

In truth, an excuse was all it was. Eltrys would be waiting for a briefing in the temple and she couldn't stand in front of him knowing that his wife and child were dead, and then not telling him. But she couldn't tell him – couldn't watch him realize he'd lost the only people he had left because of his crusade. It wasn't because of him, though, and she also didn't blame herself for this one.

They were two random Forsworn agent's and though her appearance may have triggered their attack (though she prayed it was pre-planned), they would have gone off sooner or later.

Eltrys would blame himself though, and possibly even her... so she didn't give him a chance to. He'd find out eventually, and she'd be the one to tell him. She'd have to be, it would be cruel to let him hear it from someone else when Tessara had been _right there_... she'd rather just put it off for as long as she could.

The house was high up the on the mountain Markarth was built on – in fact, it was at about the same level as Understone Keep, the Jarl's palace.

Tess leaned backwards slightly, her boots knocking against the short wall that was meant to keep people from falling, and craned her neck to look at the ground below. _Wow, _she thought and let out a low whistle. _Long way down._

Good thing she wasn't afraid of heights.

She took a couple quick strides forward and rapped lightly on the metal door before entering. There was a long entrance hall just inside, and a woman waiting at end.

"Excuse me. What's your business here?" She stood at the top of some stairs, looking down on the blonde.

Tessara cocked her head, "Who are you?"

"If you must know, I'm the maid." She answered coolly. "If you don't have any business. Leave."

"I'm here to see Nepos." Tess clarified, trying to peek around the woman. She could see two stone tables in the room behind her, and a man carrying a broom walked past the doorway. So there were witnesses, but she had a feeling that it wouldn't help much.

"We haven't been expecting you and the old man needs his rest. Come back some other time."

A tired voice echoed from around the corner. "Wait. It's okay, my dear. Send her in."

"Hmpf. Yes, Nepos." The maid called back obligingly, then looked towards Tess with an unhappy frown. "You heard him. Go on in."

Steeling herself for whatever was about to go down, she stepped up into the main area warily. A sense of foreboding swelled in her chest as she glanced around the room, though she didn't know what she was looking for – escape routes maybe? – and found she was right about the witnesses. Two more maids were in the house, and this was beginning to feel a lot like an ambush.

She approached who she assumed was Nepos – a man sitting in front of a hearth in the corner of the room, reading a book. He was wearing a deep green and expensive looking robe, and the only hair he had was on his chin. _He's the only 'old man' in_ _here._

"I'm sorry about my housekeeper. She's a little protective of me." He spoke first and without looking up. "Now what is it you want?"

"I know about Weylin." She said bluntly, straightening her shoulders and watching him intently.

"Ah, yes. You've proven to be a real bloodhound. Well, you've sniffed me out." Nepos replied calmly while glancing up at her and she almost shivered when she met his eyes. They were cold, almost devoid of all emotions. "I've been playing this game for almost twenty years. Sending the young to their deaths. All in the name of the Forsworn. And I'm tired. So tired."

Tess scowled at him. Twenty years of murder all in the name of a group of savages? "You're a monster."

"A monster? No. I'm just a servant. To my king, Madanach." He didn't seem offended in the least, just distant and almost _confused_ by her choice of insult. "When the uprising fell at the hands of the Nords, they threw him in the mines. I don't know how, but he lives. I get his messages, and I hand out his orders without question."

"You mentioned an uprising?" She murmured after a moment of silence.

"Markarth and the Reach are _our_ lands. That is why we are the Forsworn. We cannot claim the home that is rightly ours. But then during their war with the elves, we had our moment. We drove the Nords out of the Reach in a great uprising. Then Ulfric and his men came. Those of us who didn't run were executed, except for myself, my king, and a handful of others."

Quietly, she listened to his explanation, then asked the same question she had directed to Thonar. Hopefully she'd get a more informed answer this time. "Who's Madanach?"

"He is the King in Rags. A man who once held all the Reach within his grip. He stokes the passions of the downtrodden in this city. Directs them to kill the enemies of the Forsworn in our name." Nepos said reverently, then rolled his eyes. "All from inside Cidhna Mine. A Nord prison. The irony is quite thick."

The blonde shifted slightly on her feet, then glanced around. She tensed when she realized all three housekeepers had stopped with their chores and were watching the two of them. A lump formed in her throat as it suddenly dawned on her. "Why are you telling me all this?"

Nepos laughed lightly as he closed his book and turned towards her more fully. "My dear girl, what makes you think you're getting out of here alive? You were seen coming in. The girl at the door is a Forsworn agent masquerading as a maid. You aren't the first one to have gotten this far. You won't be the last."

_Shit._

Tess took a few slow steps backwards, her hands reaching carefully over her shoulder, but paused when she heard the distinct sound of knives being drawn.

"I'm sorry, but you're not leaving alive."

Oddly enough he did sound regretful, and it was the first look at real emotion heard in his voice and seen across his face. It wasn't enough.

Her bow was drawn and aimed, right at the old man's heart. She was shoved violently into the wall, however, and her arrow shot off target and landed with a small _thunk_ on the stone floor a couple of feet away. Tessara winced and grabbed her side, and when she pulled her hand back in was coated in blood. The man responsible for knocking her against the wall had also managed to snag her with his dagger.

Disregarding the pain and kicking off the wall, she almost had no time to pull another arrow from it's quiver when they came at her from all sides, Nepos included. In a stroke of luck directed towards her, she managed to kick the man away and shoot the maid that had confronted her through her head. Her death just seemed to spur the rest of them on as they attacked her.

Eventually she managed to stop the rest of them, though not without casualties on her end. Her hip was bleeding so profusely that she was starting to feel faint, and one of the maids had been particularly skilled with magic. Fortunately her leather armor had kept most of the flames at bay, but her left arm was burned pretty badly.

She dropped her bow and doubled over, one hand held over the wound and the other riffling through a chest she found in the house. With a soft and incredulous laugh of relief Tess pulled out a health potion and chugged the entire thing. Her eyes slipped shut in bliss and minor pain as she felt her side closing up, leaving nothing but a scar, and the burns on her arm disappeared completely.

Tess was still breathing heavily when she stepped towards Nepos the Nose's broken body. He had an arrow lodged in his stomach and a deep gash across his face, from his left eyebrow to right cheek. _Serves the bastard right, _she thought, suddenly resisting the urge to spit on him. Her eyebrows shot up when she noticed the book he had been reading earlier slipping out of the inside of his robes.

When she picked it up and leafed through it, it turned out to be a journal.  
><em><br>I grow guilt-ridden in my old age. So many of the young sent to their deaths. All in the name of the __Forsworn__. All in the name of __Madanach.  
><em>

_My king. Who watches us from behind the iron bars of __Cidhna Mine__. How long have I served you? Since the uprising against the __Nords__? Was there ever a time when all that violence hasn't over-shadowed our destinies?  
><em>

_What choice do I have but to do as I am instructed?_

Angrily she tossed the thing into the fire and watched as the pages turned black and burned. There was always a choice, always a different path to take. Nepos had just picked the wrong one.

* * *

><p>It was almost sunset and raining miserably by the time she made it back to the Shrine of Talos. Her hair was dripping into her armor, she was cold, and her boots squished uncomfortably when she shifted her weight but she still couldn't bring herself to go inside.<p>

She assumed Eltrys had heard about his wife's – and therefore, his child's – death already. It had happened hours ago and with Thonar's threat it would be surprising if the man hadn't gotten his guards to clean up the mess and announce the crime, probably telling the citizens it had been an accident or there was some other crazy person in town that they had taken care of already. Or blaming her.

_Come on, blondie. Don't be a wimp._

Tessara pushed open the doors and took a peek inside, there was no one. She entered fully, basking in the heat from the candles burning in the middle of the room and paying no mind to the noise she was making as she made her way to the alter. She stopped short about halfway down the ramp and stared in mouth gaping horror at the body lying a few feet in front of her, just below the statue of Talos. It was Eltrys.

A guard walked into her line of sight and she looked to him, wide eyed. "We warned you, but you had to just go and cause trouble. Now we have to pin all these recent murders on you. Silence witnesses. Work. Work. Work."

_What?  
><em>  
>"Madanach is behind these killings!" Tess almost shouted and two of the guard's buddies stood from where they had been leaning casually against the pillars on either side of the shrine – the <em>body – <em>and they drew their weapons at her outburst._  
><em>  
>"You think you're the only one who knows that?" His voice was mocking her.<br>_  
><em>"What did you do to Eltrys?" Tess was still in shock and staring at the deceased Breton again.

"Same thing we do with all the other natives who want to change things around here."

"You're corrupt." She growled, livid. Pointing out the obvious wouldn't make a difference though. "Thonar is paying you."

"We have a nice arrangement in this city, and we're not letting you get in the way. You have a problem with that? Take it up with Madanach. I'm sure the King in Rags and his Forsworn would love to meet you." The guard said, walking towards her. "Now you're coming with us. It's a life sentence in Cidhna Mine for you."

Tessara thought about it for a split second, then sighed and lifted her unarmed hands into the air. "Fine. I'll come quietly."

"You'll never see the sun again, you hear me? No one escapes Cidhna Mine." She turned around, head bowed and hands still raised and waited as the guard tied both her wrists together. "No one."

* * *

><p><em>It smells bad in here. Like sweat and... <em>she raised an eyebrow as the cell door behind her opened up and a heavily armored woman, the one that had thrown her in here, marched around to stand in front of Tessara. Her lips twitched. _Orcs._

"All right, prisoner. Eyes front. You're in Cidhna Mine, now. And we expect you to earn your keep." The woman, Urzoga, started harshly. "There's no resting your hide in a cell in this prison. Here, you work. You'll mine ore until you start throwing up silver bars. You got it?"

Tessara titled her head and her smile was full of snark, "I'm sorry. I'm a little deaf in this ear."

The Orc scowled at the blonde. "Don't get smart with me. I'm in charge. You keep it up, I'll have your toes cut off."

_I'll be long gone before I piss you off that much, trust me.  
><em>  
>"All right. Open her up." Urzoga called, over Tessara's shoulder and the gate at the other end of the cell swung open. "Now, you. Get down there."<p>

Another retort was lurking in her mind, and she pursed her lips to keep it in.

_Maybe not._


	6. No One Escapes Cidhna Mine

**Okay, okay so sorry this is so late but I went out of town to visit some family and they live on a stupid farm with no wifi.**

**Reminder, in case anyone was wondering and even if you weren't this is still pretty important, this story is set while after Tessara makes it to Skyrim, so she's like eight or nineteen, not in the Thieves Guild or the Companions and the whole Dragonborn thing probably won't ever be brought up haha.**

**Now this is probably the shortest and most boring chapter ever, and as I'm trying to make up for not updating! It's also the most boring part of the questline, I think. Mostly just a filler.**

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><p>Urzoga gra-Shugurz stared as the blonde prisoner exited the cell, then with one last departing glare she turned on her heels and marched back out to resume her watch, both gates swinging closed behind her. Tessara waited until the Orc was out of sight before she dropped her calm facade and groaned while bracing both of her hands on the railing of the wooden platform that overlooked the mine and lowering her head between her elbows. She had really messed up big this time and no amount of snark could clean it up, she also had doubts she could punch her way out of this one as well. Sighing through her nose she raised her head and looked over her newest prison.<strong><br>**

It looked, well, like a mine, except no one was actually doing anything. There was a large makeshift fire pit in the center of the area with a man sitting cross legged in front of it –not mining– and a locked gate was built into the rock wall directly across from the actual jail with _another _mercenary-looking Orc who seemed to be guarding it – again, not mining. _Great, seems as if I'm the only one here that's actually concerned with getting out, _she thought bitterly.

She could not sit in here smashing a pickaxe against an ore vein and letting the Forsworn end any more lives. Tess paused and her eyes trailed back towards the gate curiously as she recalled the guards words... if she was stuck in jail, she might as well take it up with the King of Rags himself, and she'd bet the rest of gold she had in her coinpurse that his Majesty was being kept away from the rest of the prisoners (then she remembered her coinpurse was confiscated and she was back to being lower than a beggar)

No one escapes Cidhna Mine? Well, she'd be happy to be the first.

* * *

><p>She braced herself as she approached the prisoner sitting at the fire, he looked like an ordinary old Breton, but she knew she had no idea what to expect from these guys if she was assuming they were all Forsworn.<p>

He glanced up at her tiredly and asked, "What are you in for, new blood?"

For a minute she thought about embellishing her story a bit, then decided that would probably just bring in more trouble. "Nothing. I'm innocent."

"Innocent?" He repeated in amusement. "So was I, for the first one. The other murders were all me, though. My advice? Serve your time at the pickaxe and get out. You don't want to end up getting a shiv in the guts over a bottle of skooma."

"A shiv?"

"Small blade. Easy to hide. I mean, sure, you could just swing a pickaxe into someone's face, but people tend to see that coming."

Her lips twisted slightly, "I can imagine."

"Got a problem with a prisoner? Get a shiv. Hear Grisvar has a spare, if you could get him to part with it." The man pointed out, nodding towards a tunnel on the right of the mine, where she could faintly hear the clanging sounds of someone mining. _So I guess not all of them sit around on their asses_, she snarked to herself, but mentally made a note to talk to that Grisvar guy.

Suddenly she noticed that the Orc and the Breton were the only ones she had seen so far. "Where are the guards?"

"They come in here once a week to clean out the bodies, grab any ore we've mined, and beat down the trouble makers." His tone was casual, but he had a hint of resentment in his eyes. "That's the only time when we get food too. And if there's not enough ore lined up, we don't get any."

Tess sighed, _well here's hoping I'm gone in a few days._ "What about you? What are you in for?"

He shrugged and looked back into the flames. "A Nord nobleman I served was stabbed in the night. Wasn't me, but I knew I'd be blamed. So I ran. Joined the Forsworn. Started killing. Got caught. Now I'm here."

"Why'd you join the Forsworn?"

"Because life was better under the old ways. No Nords and their laws." He was angry now and his voice was raised. "One day the Forsworn will paint the walls of Markarth in their blood."

She had to stop herself from taking a step back and looking weak. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and asked rather bluntly, "Where's Madanach?"

"If you're asking, that means you're the new lifer. Tough luck, friend. Those guards sold you out but good." His bad mood seemed to have vanished as he mocked her. "No one talks to Madanach, I'm afraid. Not without getting past Borkul the Beast... And you don't want to talk to Borkul the Beast."

"Borkul the Beast?" She asked dryly, chancing a look at the Orc standing a few feet away. He wasn't staring back, but looking off into the distance, stone faced.

"Madanach's guard. Big, even for an Orc." _I'll say._ "Heard he ripped a man's arm off and beat him to death with it. He's old-fashioned like that." Tessara hummed under her breath and made her way towards _Borkul_ without another word.

"The new meat. So soft. Tender." He looked her over dangerously. "What was it like killing your first one, huh?"

Shock overcame her features at the question. He was speaking about murdering someone as if it was something to be talked about over drinks at a tavern! "I'm not a murderer."

Borkul the Beast smirked from behind his warpaint. "Liar."

She gaped at him for a moment before shaking her head. "How'd you end up here?"

"Murder. Banditry. Assault. Theft." He paused, as if thinking, the nodded to himself. "And lollygagging."

_Prison is weird._ "How long have you been in for?"_  
><em>  
>"Guards brought me in about 12 years ago. Was running a good group of bandits up until then." Ah, so he wasn't a mercenary then. Still looked like one. "But these Forsworn. They're nothing like the men I cobbled together. They're real killers."<p>

"I need to see Madanach." Tess informed him, changing the subject. If she had to hear anymore praise for what the Forsworn did, she'd go insane.

"You want to talk to the King in Rags? Fine." Borkul said, and for one hopeful second she thought that for once it would actually be _that _easy. "But first you got to pay the toll. How about you get me a shiv? Not that I need one, but it's nice to have in case I need to do some 'shaving.'" He chuckled darkly.

"Madanach is expecting me."

He just rolled his eyes. "The only thing Madanach expects is a bottle of Skooma in tribute every so often. You're not getting through."

She put her hands on her hips and shrugged in defeat. "I don't have a shiv."

"Then find one. That dung heap Grisvar's been known to make a few."

It was never _that_ easy.

* * *

><p>Grisvar wasn't too hard to find, as he was leaning on the wall and scraping a small metal blade against the edges of his pickaxe – presumably to sharpen it.<p>

"I need a shiv." Tess told him, crossing her arms.

He looked up from his work. "Ah, you want protection? I can get you what you need. Maybe you can do something for me, first? Duach has a bottle of skooma. Finest distilled Moon Sugar. I'm shaking just thinking about it."

_Seriously? _"I'll get it for you."

"Thank you, friend." Grisvar seemed calmer already, "Don't worry. I'll have that shiv ready for you."

After he pointed her in the direction of Duach, she managed to locate him just as easily. After all, he was the only one on that side of the mine.

"Other prisoners get suspicious when we talk to each other, so keep it down." He hissed urgently.

Tessara's eyes darted around, but there was no one else insight. She dipped her head forward and lowered her voice to humour him. "I hear you have some skooma."

Duach stumbled away from her violently. "You give me one more look and I cut you open. That skooma's mine."

She let her shoulders fall limp and she tried the sympathy card. "I need some. Badly."

"Getting the shakes, huh?" He studied her for a moment before sighing and pulling the small green bottle out of his ragged robes. "Alright. Take it. Old gods keep you."

As she caught the skooma, she forced her hands to tremble for good measure. "Thank you."

* * *

><p><em>It probably looks idiotic, <em>she snickered. _Running back and forth between tunnels over and over again._

She couldn't care less, hopefully she'd never see these people again. Tessara made her back to Borkul the Beast with a shiv on her belt. It was about the size of a dagger, though thin enough that nobody could tell she had it on her at first glance. It was a pity she couldn't keep it, despite it's obviously low ability to do damage.

"Here's your shiv." She said as she held it out to him.

He took it from her and twirled it around his fingers lightly. "Alright, head on in. But don't try anything in there. Madanach is smarter than you think."

Tess watched as he opened up the gate and stepped aside. This was it, she was finally confronting the King in Rag's himself and hopefully that lead to stopping the Forsworn completely – or at least hindering them, or ridding them from Markarth. Then she'd have to escape, if all went well. _If I'm still alive. _Shaking the negative thoughts from her head she marched down the tunnel, nerves thoroughly wracked.

As soon as she rounded the corner into the private cell, a raspy voice spoke up. "Well, well. Look at you. The Nords have turned you into an animal. A wild beast caged up and left to go mad."

Her breathing stilled as she turned towards him. Madanach.


	7. The King in Rags

**So this took about four months to get out and the only excuse I have was my will to write giving me a big fat NO. Writers block of the worst kind has prevented me from sticking to my plans of updating this story frequently and for that I apologize. After this I may or may not post an epilogue of some sort, but either way I'll call this story completed! Thanks to those of you that stuck with it on my pathetic little hiatus.**

* * *

><p>He was sitting at a table, surrounded by fine wine and baked goods, writing a letter and looking for all intense purposes like... a king. It was a little surreal, seeing as the cell he was in was such a dump. She approached him cautiously, hand resting firmly on the pickaxe at her side, just in case.<p>

"So, my fellow beast, what do you want?" He asked with barely a glance in her direction, so casually you'd think he didn't even know he was locked up. "Answers about the Forsworn? Revenge for trying to have you killed?"

Tess glared at the back of his head. "You have a lot to answer for."

"Do I? And what about you? What right did you have to meddle in my affairs? Kill my people? Was it worth it? Your truth?" Madanach fired the questions at her one by one, yet leaving her no time to answer any of them. "You're one of us now, you see. A slave. The boot of your kinsmen stepping on your throat. Maybe if you understood that, I could help you."

"I don't need, or _want_, your help." She growled, her fingers itching for her bow.

She wasn't proud of killing all those people. If it were up to her, no lives would have been lost. But it wasn't, and if she hadn't defended herself then _she'd_ be the one dead in the ground and Markarth would be even tighter in the Forsworn's grasp. It may not have been her responsibility to 'cleanse' the city, or whatever Eltrys had in mind, but after getting the Breton and his wife killed it sure was starting to feel like it. That was good enough for her.

Maybe offing the King in Rags himself would help her feel better about the needless deaths. She couldn't have turned back when it was still possible because, selfish as it was, she needed to do this for herself too.

"So many say that, at first, until they realize the truth." He spat, still not bothering to look at her, instead he put his quill down and folded up the letter before setting it off to the side as he spoke. "If you change your mind, speak to Braig. Tell him I sent you. I want you to know just how widespread the injustice of Markarth is."

Before she even considered that, she would at least get some of the answers she had been looking for. "I had questions about the Forsworn."

"This was our land. We were here first." Madanach explained, poison and resentment dripping from his words. He spoke like it was such a valid reason, but to Tess it just seemed childish and petty. She hated politics. "Then the Nords came and put chains on us. Forbid us from worshiping our gods. Some of us refused to bow. We knew the old ways would lead us back to having a kingdom of our own. _That _is who we are. The Forsworn. Criminals in our own lands. And we will cut a bloody hole in the Reach, until we are free."

His words were full of passion and confidence – not like he was being cocky, but that he just _knew_ that they would take the hold back. She aimed to stop that from happening.

"I want to know about Thornar." Tess said, still standing behind him with every muscle in her body ready to defend herself if it was needed. She was on edge and making it obvious, she knew that, but there was something about this Breton that screamed _dangerous._ He was old and she could most certainly take him in a fight if the situation called for it, which she was sure it would, but that only meant he had life experience. Dark and twisted as it was.

"I had Markarth. My men and I drove the Nords out. We had won, or so we thought. Retribution was swift. I was captured, quickly tried, and sentenced to death. But my execution never came." Madanach finally turned towards her, slowly. He looked tired and bitter. "Thornar Silver-blood stopped it. He wanted the Forsworn at his call, that I would point their rage at his enemies and spare his allies. And I have. Humiliating at first, but I knew he would let his guard down eventually. That he would come to trust I was under control."

There was so much she wanted to say. To tell him that he was a sick and guiltless son of a bitch, that he deserved to die and then to swing her pickax into his smug face. But all of that would have only fed the troll.

Except for maybe the ax thing.

So instead she stormed back into the main mining area and asked Borkul for where she could find this _Braig._ Her curiosity always got the better of her, but she doubted whatever the prisoner had to say would sway her.

A taunting remark from Madanach was all she got in response to her turning away so suddenly. "Do you remember the sun? Because you'll forget. Soon."

That was just one more person to prove wrong.

* * *

><p>Tess stood a little ways away from Braig, giving him space as he mined the ore vein viciously. There was pent-up aggression in his actions, and she guessed she'd be finding out why soon enough. "What do you want? I have digging to do."<p>

"Madanach asked me to hear your story." She informed him simply, arms crossed tightly as she waited.

"My story, huh?" He scoffed miserably. "Everyone in Cidhna Mine has a tale. Let's hear yours first. When was the first time you felt chains around your wrists?"

What she wanted to do was flatten him to the ground and demand an answer, but that probably wouldn't end well. Instead she decided on a half truth, seeing as her less than upstanding childhood wasn't any of his business. Her teenage years in Cyrodiil weren't exactly full of epic thievery, but she had gotten into enough trouble to get arrested, if only to childishly rebel against her mother.

"It was Helgen, just a few weeks ago. I was being sent to the executioner."

"So you know what its like to have your life in someone else's hands. Why should they get to decide? Isn't judgement for the gods?" He had stopped mining by now, opting to wring his hands together in aggravation as he spoke to her. "Do you have any family? Anyone waiting for you on the outside?"

_No. No one knows if I'm even still alive._

"Yes, but they're far from Skyrim."

"I had a daughter, once. She'd be twenty-three this year. Married to some hotheaded silver worker or maybe on her own learning the herb trade." Braig informed her wistfully, staring somewhere over her shoulder, his voice brimming with pain. "The Nords didn't care who was and who wasn't involved in the Forsworn Uprising. I had spoken to Madanach once, that was enough. But my little Aethra didn't want to see her papa leave her. She pleaded to the Jarl to take her instead. And after they made me watch as her head rolled off the block, they threw me in here anyway, to dig up their silver."

All she could do was gape at the Breton. She didn't think anyone could be that cruel, not even her racist and short minded kinsman.

"How long have you been in here?" She asked in a whisper.

"Long enough." Was the only answer he gave her as he leaned against the wall, tired and hurting, with his arms crossed in what looked like an effort to hold himself together.

Tess swallowed thickly and bowed her head. "I'm sorry to hear what happened to you."

"My daughter is the one who needs your pity." He shook his head suddenly as more of the anger she had witnessed before leaked into his voice. "I'm just a poor Forsworn whose only regret is not killing more Nords before he was locked up."

And then she was angry as well. He lost his daughter and was thrown in jail all in the same breath, but that gave him no right to want to kill people who had done nothing but share the race of the men that wronged him. "You think your story justifies the murders the Forsworn have committed?"

"I'm not Madanach. I was never a leader of the Forsworn. The only anger I can justify is my own." Braig growled, pushing off the wall and glaring at her. "But every family in the Reach has a story like mine. There are no innocent onlookers in this struggle. Just the guilty, and the dead."

Tess didn't even know why she bothered listening to this. These men were insane and they couldn't even look past their own tragedies long enough to hear the other side of the story. No one had the right to murder a child just for wanting her father to stay home with her, it was wrong and inexcusable but that didn't mean the father had anymore of a valid reason to declare war against every single Nord, guilty or not.

Innocent people existed until the things they kept precious were unfairly ripped away from them. She was a prime example of that herself, but the difference between those people and the Forsworn was what they decided to do with the loss – cope with it, mourn, move on with your loved ones in your heart and memories, always, or seek vengeance for something that you can't change no matter how many lives you take as recompense.

And maybe she was being a hypocrite. She had planned on killing Madanach, and she was still going to go through with that, all because she had a guilty conscience. Maybe she needed to kill him not for herself, but to end the Forsworn conspiracy and to stop them from taking back the Reach.

Did that make the murder any more justified? It wasn't her place to say.

All she knew was that she was going to put the King in Rags' rein of terror to an end before the nervous subjects of Markarth even realized he had ever been in control.

* * *

><p>"You're back." Madanach noted, still seated at his table and staring blankly at the wall. "Have you done what I asked?"<p>

"I talked to Braig." She confirmed indifferently.

"Imagine hearing a story like that, over and over. Each time a different family. Each time a different injustice." His tone was dripping with a sort of sympathetic anger he must have had to use often in order to perfect it. Honestly, she didn't think he felt any kind of remorse for the victims, only satisfaction at knowing there were more people angry enough to join his cause. "Your meddling above ground reminded me of how removed I've been from the struggle. My men and I should be in the hills, fighting."

Tess folded her arms in front of her, fingers lightly grazing the pickax at her side. If she were lucky she could strike him hard enough for the blow to be fatal, and no other prisoners would hear the sounds of a fight and come looking. "Spare me from your speeches." She said distractedly, her mind still working out all the details of her attack. It would be hard to act casual around the others, but without an escape plan that's what she'd have to do.

Unless, of course, he was getting at what she thought he was. Then he'd be doing all the work for her.

"You know, I'm almost beginning to like you, but you haven't earned your place out of here yet." Madanach chuckled hoarsely and her lip curled in disgust. " Have you met Grisvar the Unlucky? He's rightly named, and he's also a thief and a snitch. He's outlived his minor usefulness. Take care of him, and then we can leave Cidhna Mine for good."

Quietly she unsheathed her pickax. "Not gonna happen, _your Highness._"

She could practically sense his eye roll, but before he could open his mouth to demand her cooperation or whatever he planned to do, she swung. Fortunately for her the prisoner by the fire was wrong. He didn't see it coming at all.

The tip of the ax embedded itself into the side Madanach's skull and a squirt of blood poured out from the wound, coating the hilt of the tool and her hands. It was sticky and warm but she paid it no mind as she tugged, throwing the old man off of his chair and then pushing the blade further into his head. He let out a few cries of agony and surprise, obviously not expecting her take him out so forcefully – or at all – but he was dead soon enough.

Borkul the Beast no doubt heard that, so as quickly as she could Tess snatched the letter Madanach had been writing earlier off the desk along with a key. She opened the letter, praying for something useful and smudging the page with thick blood.

_I promised you all we would escape Cidhna Mine together, and I have found a way. If I die before I can show it to you, then search the cells near my room. Use my key. There is a tunnel that leads into the city that you can use._

_-Madanach_

She fled the room and found the tunnel leading out of this place easily and re-locking the cell once she got in. It wasn't enough to stop the Orc if he really wanted to get through, the rock wall surrounding the door was weak and a strong kick could probably dislodge it, but it would have to stall him for now. It lead to some sort of old Dwemer ruin, but she was in such a hurry to get out of there that she didn't even think it through before entering.

Tess rushed through the ruin for only a few steps before noticing an old stone pillar that looked ready to crumble. If she gave it a push, it would send the entire ceiling on one side crashing to the ground and effectively blocking any of prisoners from following her or escaping themselves. So with a relieved sigh, she did just that.

The sound of collapsing rocks would most likely draw their attention – along with the attention of any living machines around the place – if Madanach's painful shouts hadn't already, but she wasn't worried. They wouldn't be able to find her anyways.

She coughed loudly to clear the dust from her throat and continued on out of the mine.

Of course the Dwemer were clever little bastards, and of course their machinery was still working like the day it was made. She was attacked by a multitude of Frostbite spiders and Dwarven Centurions and her only weapon was lodged into his majesty's brain. Tess did her best to out run them, and apparently that was enough as she eventually made it to a large metal door and got out of that terrible place.

For some reason, Thornar Silver-blood was waiting for her on the outside. _By the Divine's, if I get tossed back in there, I'll be out for blood..._

"My eyes inside Cidhna Mine tell me that Madanach is dead."

So he had informants that couldn't help her out with the whole escaping thing? Nice.

"You've done a great service to the Silver-blood family." He informed her appreciatively. "I've had the Jarl officially pardon you, and take care of a few other loose ends."

Tess stared at him incredulously. "You and your thugs had me arrested in the first place!"

"And you've proven that was the best move I could have made." That did nothing to pacify her, instead she only continued to glare at him. "Don't give me that look. You're free to go. Here, how about a little token for your efforts? My family's ring and all the things my guards confiscated from you when you were jailed."

Grumbling, she gingerly took her things back from him while trying not get the dried blood on anything important. After sorting her things back into her reacquired bag, she inspected the ring. It was solid silver, naturally, and definitely not her style. Most likely sell for a lot though, so she'd accept it gracefully.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to figure out how we're going to fill our recently emptied mine." Assuming the rest of the Forsworn locked away would finally be executed, he had a lot of work to do.

Her, though... not so much. She had absolutely nothing expected of her besides a good cleaning a long sleep. Finally.

**End**


End file.
